Chapter 219: Steven's Goodwill
"Rhine Lab? That's another medical company, isn't it? You guys just let your competitors onto the island like that?"
Steven raised an eyebrow at Gavial, clearly confused.
I mean, they were all calling themselves companies—how did it make sense to let rival med-tech corps waltz into your core medical department?
Wasn't Kal'tsit afraid of information leaks or something?
"At the very least, we're all on the same side when it comes to curing the Infected," Gavial replied with a shrug. "They might be members of Rhine Lab, but they're also Rhodes Island doctors. So what's the problem?"
Before Steven could follow up, a familiar voice chimed in behind him.
"It's not like our biggest secret isn't sitting right in front of me."
Kal'tsit had arrived without so much as a footstep, slipping into the seat beside Steven like she'd been there the whole time.
Her golden eyes locked onto his, calm but sharp.
"If someone like you were that easy to see through," she continued, tapping the table lightly, "I wouldn't be stuck reacting to your every move like this."
"That depends on how you look at it," Steven smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe I'm just that simple, and you're the one overcomplicating things."
Kal'tsit didn't respond, but the silence was answer enough.
Gavial, meanwhile, could feel the tension rising in the room like storm clouds gathering above her head.
"Uh... should I give you two some space or something?" she asked awkwardly, shrinking slightly in her chair. "Maybe take a walk so I don't get caught in the crossfire?"
"Don't."
Steven reached out and gently pushed her back down into her seat before she could flee. "Actually, there's something I trust you with more than her, and since you're both here, I might as well say it."
Gavial blinked, then slowly sank back into place.
From the look on his face, Steven wasn't joking around anymore.
"Alright, alright. Can't say I'm not a man of my word," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "That little bunny girl asked me for a favor a while back... and yeah, I've been paying attention to what Rhodes Island is doing."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle glowing faintly pink.
"Whatever else you guys are, you're serious about treating the Infected. That counts for something in my book."
He placed the potion gently on the table. The glow pulsed softly like it was alive.
Kal'tsit's eyes narrowed.
"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice low.
Steven shrugged. "Not much. Just that if you people keep staying true to your ideals—helping others, healing the sick—then maybe I can work with you."
He snapped his fingers once, sharp and clean.
"This stuff? You already know what it does. If you're using it to heal, to actually save lives—I can offer you more. Trade, not charity. But..."
His gaze shifted to Gavial.
"I'll need someone I can trust to handle it. Someone like her."
Steven flashed Kal'tsit a grin that said "I don't trust you" so clearly, he might as well have carved it onto his forehead. Then he turned to the green-haired little crocodile sitting beside him.
"So you picked me to be the unlucky sucker, huh? Do I even get a choice in this?"
Gavial's face fell upon hearing that.
Steven offering his miracle medicine to Rhodes Island was undeniably great news for every patient on the island—but if she had to be the middleman, the so-called "agent" for this stuff?
Who knew how the other medics would look at her?
Especially considering what he was implying: this medicine was strictly for treatment, no experiments allowed.
That would definitely ruffle some Rhine Lab feathers.
And knowing those Rhine Lab types? They'd probably want to strip this potion down to its atomic underwear.
"You absolutely have a choice. We don't have to work together at all," Steven said with a carefree shrug. "I'm easygoing like that. I respect your decision."
He meant it, too. If she wasn't up for it, he wouldn't force her. Frankly, it'd save him the headache.
Unfortunately, while Gavial could refuse… Kal'tsit wasn't looking too pleased with that idea.
Gavial let out a long, tired sigh.
Compared to the awkward politics that would come with this job, she'd rather settle things with a straight-up brawl.
"Ugh… Like I even had a real choice," she groaned, slumping forward until her cheek smushed against the table. "This is gonna be such a pain…"
Still, despite her complaints, her fingers slowly reached toward the small vial resting beside her.
It glowed with that soft, mysterious pink light—pure, concentrated, and powerful.
Kal'tsit had always treated even diluted versions of it like they were priceless treasures. Gavial had only ever handled the super-thin stuff… and now she was touching the real deal.
"Just so we're clear," Steven said, pointing at her lazily, "this was your decision. I didn't force you. As for you, Kal'tsit—"
His gaze shifted sharply.
"—you can figure out the value of this stuff on your own. I have one condition, and one only: use it to save people. Nothing else. You use it for anything shady, and well…"
He bared his teeth in a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You know me. I hold grudges."
He turned back to Kal'tsit with a final warning.
With Gavial, he had no doubts. But Kal'tsit? He trusted her as far as he could throw her. And she looked like the kind of cat who always landed on her feet—often on someone else's head.
To be honest, if it weren't for Amiya's personal request, Steven wouldn't even be entertaining this idea.
"I understand what you're getting at," Kal'tsit replied coolly, giving him a small nod. "And on behalf of every patient under Rhodes Island's care… I thank you."
She meant it.
She was used to Steven's paranoia, used to his guarded eyes and mistrustful heart.
But setting that aside, his gesture today—this decision—was nothing short of a miracle for the island's medical staff and the people they treated.
Because this medicine… it worked. It worked too well.
As long as someone still had a breath in them, this potion could pull them back from death's door. How could anyone not be grateful?
"Don't thank me too soon," Steven waved her off. "Gratitude doesn't put food on the table, and this stuff ain't free. I'm just reminding you—I'm not joking around."
"I understand," Kal'tsit replied, voice quiet but firm.
She did.
Honestly, Steven had already gone above and beyond.
Forget future purchases—those first few vials he handed over had come with no strings attached.
As long as Rhodes Island didn't misuse them, every patient who stepped onto the island from now on… would essentially have an extra layer of protection over their lives.
"...So," Kal'tsit continued, eyes narrowing slightly, "the fact you're giving me such detailed instructions—does that mean you're leaving again?"
It was always the same with Steven.
The moment he stopped wandering aimlessly and started doing things with purpose, it meant only one thing: he was preparing to move on.
For all his unpredictability, Steven was weirdly easy to read in moments like these.
In some ways—like he always said—he really was quite simple.
Still, that didn't stop Kal'tsit from being frustrated by his utter inability to sit still.
Every time he reached a new place, he had to stir something up.
She didn't even need to ask to know: if Steven was heading to Kazimierz, there was no chance he'd do it quietly.
The elite operators were already making bets. Some said he'd make the front page of the hottest tabloid—Red Wine—within three days.
"'Leaving again'? I was never staying," Steven replied, smirking with half-lidded eyes. "Rhodes Island was just a pit stop, a free ride. If it bothers you that much, I won't come next time."
He wasn't lying.
From where he stood, he could already see the lights of Kazimierz in the distance.
And really, what kind of traveler would he be if he didn't go down there to explore?
He'd practically memorized the entire layout of Rhodes Island's corridors by now. At this point, he could tell you which patient was in which room more accurately than the night-shift medics. Not because he had an amazing memory—but because he was just that bored.
"You know that's not what I meant," Kal'tsit sighed. "I'm just saying… wouldn't it be better to have an official Rhodes Island identity? It'd make your time in Kazimierz smoother. This isn't the wild snowfields of Ursus—it's a commercial powerhouse. A little paperwork goes a long way."
The fact Kal'tsit said all that in one breath—and without a single cryptic riddle—was rare enough to be a miracle.
But that's how it was with Steven. He brought out the strangest side of people.
"I get where you're coming from," Steven said, shaking his head gently. "But it's unnecessary. I'd rather experience Kazimierz as myself, not as some diplomat from Rhodes Island. Whatever happens, happens—that's the fun part, isn't it?"
His refusal was firm but not unkind. Steven wasn't there to make alliances. He was there to live. The journey was what mattered to him—not the destination.
Kal'tsit fell quiet, tapping the table with a thoughtful finger. "Very well. If that's what you want, I won't push. But… since we're being honest, there is something you might be able to help with."
She didn't force the issue. Just gave a calm nod—and brought up something she'd been holding onto for a while.
"Let me guess," Steven said, narrowing his eyes playfully. "This is about that little orca, is it? You really don't trust her that much?"
"I don't trust any Abyssal Hunters," Kal'tsit said coldly. "After all… whether they're even human is still up for debate. Besides, you and I both know Gladiia decision to leave has a lot to do with you, doesn't it?"
"Hmph. You make it sound like I pushed her out the door," Steven scoffed, putting on an exaggerated look of fatherly pain. "What was I supposed to do? Tie her up and stop her from becoming independent? I'm her old man, not her prison warden."
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